


This Christmas

by robinwritesallthefanfiction



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Dirty Jokes, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Foreplay, Holidays, Language, Nudity, Romance, Scars, Self-Insert, Series, Surgery, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthefanfiction/pseuds/robinwritesallthefanfiction
Summary: It's Denny and Robin's first Christmas together.





	1. Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin remembers the day she met Denny.

**Robin**

Denny stares skeptically at the slice of blackberry rhubarb pie in front of him. “Are you sure?” He twirls his fork in his hand as he stalls.

I raise my eyebrows. “Do you remember the day we met?” His face lights up as I lean over the counter to kiss the tip of his nose.

“You know I do,” he answers, grinning mischievously.

_I turn as the bell over the door chimes, alerting me to a new customer. For a moment, I can’t speak. The man who just walked in is tall and extraordinarily handsome, but what’s really striking is that he looks happier than anyone I’ve ever seen. When he notices me, his face blossoms into a sweet smile._

_“Are you closing up?” He rubs his neck bashfully with a large hand. “I don’t want to be a bother.” He’s so sincere that I can’t help but give him a big smile of my own._

_“I was just about to lock up, but I have time for one more person.” I flip my sign around to the “Closed” side before fishing my keys out of my skirt pocket._

_“You sure?” His smile falters for a moment, but quickly reappears as I nod._

_“Positive. What’ll you have?” I slip behind the counter, leaning against it and waiting for him. He sheds his heavy black peacoat after shoving his hat, gloves, and scarf into the deep pockets; underneath, he’s wearing an olive green t-shirt over a white long-sleeved shirt. The color of the t-shirt makes his hazel eyes look lighter. I watch him as he walks, noticing that he’s long all over. Long legs, long arms, long fingers. He tousles the back of his messy brown hair as he sits down in front of me, laying his jacket on the stool next to him._

_“That picture in the window looked good,” he says. “That’s why I stopped.”_

_“One Valentine’s Day special, coming right up.” He tilts his head curiously as I set a plate in front of him and place the bottom of a shortcake biscuit in the center of it._

_“Is it really Valentine’s Day?” he wonders, and I laugh a little as I pile fresh strawberries on the biscuit._

_“That must mean you don’t have a date,” I tease, though I find that extremely hard to believe. I continue building his dessert as he blushes and shrugs._

_“Women aren’t really into a sick guy,” he admits shyly. I place the second half of the biscuit on the strawberries and put a big dollop of whipped cream on top of everything, handing him a fork. He leans down to breathe in the smell of the dessert appreciatively, and then his eyes flick up to mine. “What is that?” he asks, suddenly wary._

_“Balsamic vinegar and black pepper.” He squints at me skeptically; I pull myself up onto the stool on my side of the counter so I can sit with him while he eats. “Just trust me. I made it, and I don’t make bad things.”_

_He digs in, taking a big bite. I’m pleased when I see his reaction to the food. “Oh, wow,” he sighs contentedly after he swallows, “that’s good.”_

_“Told you,” I gloat nonchalantly as he takes another bite. “You don’t look sick,” I observe quietly._

_He dips his head, blushing again, that satisfied smile still plastered all over his face. “I’m not anymore,” he reveals, glancing up at me. “Can I show you something?”_

_“Okay.” I watch as he lifts his hand, pulling the collars of his shirts down enough to expose dark curls of hair and a large scar that extends down the center of his chest. My eyes widen and my hand shakes a little against the counter. He reaches out and grabs it with his own._

_“I’m fine,” he assures me gently. “I had a heart transplant seven months ago. They gave me a clean bill of health today.” He looks down at his plate. “It’s been years since I had dessert.” He lets go of his shirts and dips his finger into the whipped cream, sucking it off of the tip. My eyes are drawn to his lips. “This really is good,” he compliments me. “The black pepper is in the whipped cream?”_

_“That’s right,” I reply softly, gripping his hand in mine. “Your hand is very warm.” I’m surprised when the comment makes his infectious smile return._

_“I haven’t had warm hands in years either,” he divulges, rubbing my fingers between his. He bites his lip and picks his fork back up, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. After a moment, he adds, “I’m Denny. Denny Duquette.”_

_“Well, hello, Denny Duquette,” I greet him, my voice a little breathy. “I’m Robin Ballard.”_

_“Robin,” he repeats. His smile somehow manages to get broader. “I like that name.” It’s my turn to blush; I’ve always hated my name. “Do you want my last bite?” he offers, holding the fork out to me._

_My natural instinct is to tell him that it’s his, but he looks so earnest that I lean forward instead, letting him put the fork in my mouth. He slowly drags it out until it’s clean and sets it aside._

_I wipe a tiny bit of whipped cream from the corner of my mouth. “Damn,” I wink at him, “I am good at my job.”_

_He laughs. “You are. I’m glad I came in.” He finally lets go of my hand and pulls his wallet out. “What do I owe you?”_

_“On the house, Denny Duquette,” I refuse lightly. “In celebration of your warm hands.” He blushes again, and looks like he’s about to protest, so I firmly shake my head. “I insist.”_

_“Thank you.” He pauses, looking at me longingly. “I should get out of your hair, I suppose,” he continues reluctantly. “It was very nice to meet you, Robin.” He glances at the door. “Will it lock behind me?”_

_“I’ll get it.” I jump down from the stool to follow him to the entrance as he slips his winterwear back on. As I fiddle with my keys, I realize that we’re standing very close to each other. We’re not quite touching, but if either of us moved…_

_Impulsively, I stretch up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek gently. “It was very nice to meet you too, Denny.”_

_He flashes me that brilliant smile one more time, and then he’s gone._

I thought about him for the rest of that night. It was only when I counted the money in the tip jar that I realized he’d shoved a $50 bill in there while I was distracted.

I didn’t think I’d see him again, but he came back every night for two weeks. He always arrived five minutes before I closed. He’d glance around, checking for customers, and flip the sign, then wait for me to come join him and lock the door. He’d follow me back to the counter, sit down, order the special, and we’d talk until he fed me the last bite.

Each night, he ate slower and slower. Each night, our conversations got deeper and more personal. When he showed up with flowers on March 2, I thought he had figured out when my birthday was. When he told me he hadn’t known and that the flowers were to give me before he asked me out on a date, my heart had skipped a beat.

Now it’s December 1, and we’ve just moved in together. I’ve never been happier in my life, and, as he frequently reminds me, neither has Denny.

“So trust me,” I admonish lightly. He rolls his eyes dramatically and cuts off a piece of the pie, sticking his fork into his mouth. “There’s that look again,” I chastise him. “I’m right. You’re wrong. You should know that by now.” I wink and he laughs.

“Shush and let me finish my pie, woman,” he scolds, and I come around the counter to sit next to him, waiting patiently until he feeds me the last bite and then pulls me in for a kiss.


	2. Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny and Robin build a snowman.

**Robin**

Denny stands behind me, his chest pressed against my back as we both twine a scarf around the snowman’s neck. I tip my head up so I can look at him. “Our first snowman,” I sigh. He chuckles, glancing down the street.

“He looks like all the other snowmen,” Denny observes. “I think he needs to be unique.”

“Hm,” I muse. “What do you suggest?”

Denny reaches out, grabbing the carrot that serves as the snowman’s nose. He pulls it free and moves to my side, his arm around my waist. I watch curiously as he sticks it back into the snowman at the top of the large snowball that forms the base.

“There,” Denny says, winking at me. “Now he’s a snowman who likes you.”

It’s silent for a moment, and then we both burst out laughing. “You’re such a dork!” I tease. He smirks, then cups my face in his gloved hands and kisses me. I wrap my arms around his middle and stand on my tiptoes, deepening the kiss.

Denny’s hands wander over my shoulders and down my back until he’s gripping my hips. He pulls me against him and I giggle into his mouth. “Is that a carrot in your pocket, or are you just a snowman who likes me?” I joke.

He smiles, pressing me against the snowman and kissing me harder. I yelp as the carrot pokes me in the thigh, and Denny moves his hand so he can yank it out of the snowball. As he jams it back into the snowman’s face, he mumbles, “All right, cool your jets, snowman. You’re not getting a threesome for Christmas.”

I laugh uproariously as Denny hooks an arm under my knees and lifts me up against his chest. I put my arms around his neck and snuggle into him as he carries me back to the house. “Let’s warm you up,” he suggests, opening the door.

I arch my eyebrow and kiss his cheek gently. “I think you’re just jealous of the snowman,” I whisper in his ear.

Denny turns his head and pouts. “If you brought him inside, he’d melt,” he points out haughtily, carrying me up the stairs to our bedroom. He sets me down so we can take off our winterwear; I strip until I’m naked, then lay back on the bed and crook a finger at him.

“I bet I can make you melt if I try hard enough,” I purr. He moves to the side of the bed and I start to undo his jeans.

“In your mouth, not in your hand?” he quips.

“Better test out both just to make sure,” I breathe, slipping my hands beneath his shirt to touch the soft curls of hair on his taut belly. He tosses it aside and I reach for his shoulders, lifting my head so I can press my lips to the long scar on his chest.

Denny gasps and pushes me onto the bed, crawling on top of me and covering me with his firm, warm body. “I love you, Robin,” he pants. I wrap my legs around his waist, digging my toes into his jeans and tugging them down to his thighs. My hands tangle in his hair as I pull his head to mine.

“I love you, Denny.”


	3. Christmas Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny remembers the night he finally asked Robin out.

**Denny**

I take the last box of decorations down from the shelf in the garage, relieved to finally see the Christmas lights. I suppose I could have always bought new ones, but I knew I had some around here already. I walk back into the living room and sit on the couch, grabbing a string and starting the laborious process of untangling the cords and replacing the bulbs. At least I’ve got the tree up already.

I haven’t done anything for the holidays since I got sick; I’d honestly always assumed that each one would be my last. Now that I’m well again, I’d like to pull out all the stops, especially since Robin told me she loves the Christmas season. She’s not religious, but she said she likes the overall sense of joy that seems to be everywhere.

She’s made me happier than I ever thought I could be after my surgery. I want to return the favor as much as I possibly can.

I smile as I remember the day I finally worked up the courage to ask her out. We’d been talking every night for weeks, but I was still nervous that she wouldn’t want someone who had been sick like me.

_I clutch the bouquet of roses anxiously as I enter the bakery, looking for Robin as I step inside. “Hi, Denny!” she calls brightly. I finally see her hand waving from behind the counter; she must be tidying things before she closes. “I’ll be right there!”_

_A moment later, she emerges. I turn and flip the sign like I always do, my new heart pounding in my chest._

_“I have red velvet cake on special today,” she informs me cheerfully. “Do you want a slice?” I step to the side so she can lock the door. After she does, she notices the roses in my hand and stops, her cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink. She looks up at me, her dark hazel eyes wide, and murmurs, “How did you know? I never told you.”_

_I blink, confused. “Know what?” I ask carefully, not sure what she means._

_She gestures to the flowers. “Those… aren’t for my birthday?” she replies cautiously, biting her lip. Suddenly, she’s not just flushed, she’s bright red, and she starts to babble. “I’m sorry. They’re probably not even for me. I shouldn’t have assumed. I… oh…” She twists her skirt in her hands and looks terribly embarrassed, so I step forward and cup her cheek in my palm. She stops speaking instantly and automatically presses her warm skin against my long fingers._

_I’ve touched her before. I’ve sat in the bakery for hours after closing with my arm around her. I’ve smoothed her hair back over her ear. I’ve kissed her forehead and her cheeks on numerous occasions. But this time feels different. I sigh contentedly and then smile._

_“They’re for you,” I assure her. “It’s your birthday? I didn’t know. I would have brought you a gift.” I can think of a million things I could have gotten her that would have made her smile._

_“But… you just said the flowers were for me,” she observes. “If they’re not for that, what are they for?”_

_It’s my turn to blush. It’s the best opening I could ask for. “I…” I take a deep breath and force myself to say the words; I can’t keep coming here and hanging around her and not telling her how I feel. I want her too much._

_“I… was wondering if you’d like to go out with me? On a date? I know I’ve been out of the scene for the last five or so years, but it’s still considered nice to bring a girl flowers when you ask that, right?” I look at her bashfully, hoping against hope that she’ll say yes._

_She looks completely shocked, but she reaches out and touches one of the roses delicately. “I wouldn’t know,” she admits. “No one’s ever asked me out before.”_

_I smile and chuckle, thinking she’s not serious. But when I look at her face, which has gone slightly pale with worry, I realize that she is. I step closer to her, pushing the flowers into her hands in the process. The plastic wrapped around them crinkles as she curls her fingers over the stems._

_“I don’t understand,” I start, stroking her cheekbones with my thumbs. Her skin is so soft, and she smells like baked goods and fruit and whipped cream. I bury my nose in her hair and take a deep breath, savoring it. “You’re successful, and smart, and so sweet, Robin. I’m pretty sure you can bake anything in the universe. And you’re…” I sigh again. “You’re so beautiful,” I whisper. “Why wouldn’t someone want you?”_

_She clutches the flowers to her chest carefully so she doesn’t crush them, glancing up at me through her long, thick eyelashes. Her cheeks are pink again, and she’s smiling shyly. “No one’s ever wanted me, Denny,” she reveals. “People get… tired of me. I talk too much, or I’m too needy. It’s always something. And the past few years, I’ve been working so hard to get the bakery off the ground that I’ve just gotten used to being alone. I sort of… stopped trying, I suppose.”_

_“I love it when you talk,” I blurt out. “You can talk about anything for hours. And your voice is pretty. As for needy, well… I’d be happy to give you anything you need, Robin.”_

_She trembles, burying her face in the flowers and smelling them to distract herself. “There are so many colors,” she notes._

_I run a hand over the back of my neck. “It’s dorky, I know. I just couldn’t decide which color to get. The woman behind the counter was so scandalized.”_

_Robin laughs lightly and puts a hand on my arm. “I think they’re perfect, Denny. I love them.” She studies the roses and then looks at me again. “Doesn’t each color mean something?” she wonders._

_My face gets hot. I chose each color carefully for what they meant, but I didn’t realize she would know that. I think about making something up; I don’t want to scare her away. But I don’t want to lie to her, either. She’s the first person I’ve had feelings for since before I got sick, and the only person I’ve ever felt this strongly about._

_“Um, yeah, they do,” I finally answer. “I chose the colors I wanted.” I touch each rose as I explain it. “Yellow is friendship and joy for when we first met.” That was the easy one; all of the others are going to reveal every card that I’m holding._

_I wrap my other arm around her shoulders, pressing my forehead against hers, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath as I tell her the rest. “Lavender is enchantment and love at first sight. That’s for when we first met too. Pink is love and romance. That’s what I want to give you.” My voice gets quieter and quieter as I speak; I’m afraid that I’m moving much too quickly. But when I risk opening my eyes, she’s staring right back at me, fascinated and hanging on every word I’m saying._

_“And orange is for desire and passion.” I rub my thumb over the last flower. “Robin, I… I can’t even tell you how badly I want you. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I can’t deny that once I really got better, I started thinking about being with someone again. When I stopped here, I didn’t expect to meet you, or to fall for you, but I did. I fell hard. And I want you to know it’s not just because you were one of the first people I saw after the check-up where they told me that I’m really fine now. It’s because you’re you. I wasn’t looking for you, but the moment I saw you, I knew. You’re who I’ve been looking for. You’re what’s missing from my life.”_

_Her eyes are wet now. She sets the bouquet on the nearest table before coming back to me, putting her arms around my neck, and pressing her face against my hot skin. Less than a year ago, I couldn’t even get hot like this; I’m so glad that everything has changed. “Denny…” I can hear how choked up she is, so I hold her tightly and whisper my next words in her ear._

_“I just want to be that guy,” I confess. “That guy who supposedly only exists in romantic comedies and TV shows. I want to be the guy who’s perfect. Who treats you right. Who gives you everything you want and need. Just let me try, Robin. Please.”_

_“You don’t have to try,” she gasps, pulling back so she can cup my cheeks in her hands and look at me fiercely. “You already are, Denny. I want you too, the same way you want me.” I beam at her, unable to contain my excitement._

_She uses her sleeve to wipe her eyes and beams back. “So where are we going on this date?”_

_“You don’t have plans for your birthday?” She shakes her head quickly._

_“I don’t usually tell people about my birthday,” she admits. “I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to do anything or get me anything. But I’m glad I don’t have plans,” she adds. “I’d rather spend the time with you.”_

_“I thought I could cook for you,” I suggest. “I like to cook. I can’t bake, though. You’ve got the advantage there.”_

_She giggles. “I can teach you how to bake if you want me to,” she offers._

_“I’d like that,” I confirm. “Look, if you’d like to go somewhere for your birthday, that’s fine. Pick any place you want and I’ll take you there.”_

_“I like your first offer,” she assures me. She raises her chin and looks longingly at my lips. “Take me home with you, Denny.”_

_Electricity runs up my spine at her request. I’d be a big liar if I said I’m not hoping that certain other things are going to happen once I get her back to my apartment. Not that I’m going to pressure her, but when you’ve basically been forced to be a monk for the past six years, it does cross your mind._

_“I will, Robin. But first I need to do this.” I splay my fingers over the side of her face, holding her close and pressing my mouth against hers. She gasps softly and her hands tighten on me as she leans up into my kiss._

“Denny?” Robin’s voice breaks me out of my reverie; I look up and realize that she’s standing right in front of me. “Are you okay?” There’s concern in her eyes. “I’ve been calling your name.”

I push the box of lights away and pull her down into my lap, kissing her eagerly. She makes a little sound of pleasure and kisses me back just as eagerly. When I finally pull away, she’s a smiling, blushing mess. “What was that for?”

“I was just remembering the night I asked you out,” I reveal nonchalantly, running my fingers through her hair.

“Which part?” she teases, running her lips over my jaw.

I chuckle, leaning into her, turning my head to brush our mouths together again. “The cute, awkward part. I hadn’t quite gotten around to remembering the rest yet.”

“Shame,” she purrs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I liked the cute, awkward part. But the hot, steamy part was nice too.”

“I could take you upstairs and remind you. Just in case you forgot.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a refresher course,” she agrees, grabbing my shirt and pulling me up as she kisses me again.

“Let me show you something first.” I plug in the lights and flip the switch to turn them on.

“Oh, Denny. They’re beautiful.” She tilts her head, studying the lights carefully. “They’re the same colors as the roses you gave me that night,” she notices, clearly delighted.

“I changed the bulbs. I want our first Christmas together to be special.”

She kisses my cheek and puts her arms around my neck. “It will be the first of many, I hope.”

“Yes,” I agree simply, pulling her closer.

“As long as we’re together, Denny, it will be special. I love it. Thank you.”

Then my lips are on her lips. I lift her up off of the floor, pressing her as close to me as I can and appreciating how lucky I am that she’s chosen me.


	4. Holiday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin makes a holiday delivery to the hospital.

**Robin**

I walk through the front doors of the hospital, my arms full of boxes packed with various goodies for their annual Christmas party. Normally I don’t make deliveries myself, but Denny had a check-up today and I promised to meet him after.

I smile as I see him waiting for me in the lobby. He smiles back and comes to help me.

Before he can even say hello, I’m anxiously asking, “Are you all right?” He hasn’t had any problems since his heart transplant, but the thought always lingers in the back of my mind.

“Aw, honey,” he replies, taking everything from me and setting it all down on one of the chairs in the waiting room so he can pull me into his arms. “I’m fine, sweetheart. I don’t want you to be stressed about this; you have enough to worry about.”

I nestle into his warmth, resting my head on his chest. “I just want you to be okay,” I murmur. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

He presses his lips to my forehead and squeezes me tighter. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise.” I feel him look up and he slowly turns me to face the stairs. “You want confirmation from the man himself?” He waves. “Dr. Burke!”

A tall man in a white coat raises his hand in greeting, making his way over to us. “Denny Duquette,” he says, smiling and shaking Denny’s hand. “How are you doing?”

“You’d know if you ever came to see me during my visits,” Denny quips. Dr. Burke laughs.

“Well, from everything I’ve heard, you don’t need me to see you, Denny. You know they only call me when things get bad.” His voice is light.

Denny squeezes my shoulder. “Will you tell my girl that?” he requests. “She’s worried sick every time I come in.” He winks down at me, but I can tell he really is concerned. “This is Robin Ballard. We just moved in together.” He sounds so happy and proud.

“Then congratulations are in order.” Dr. Burke reaches out to shake my hand. After a moment, he tilts his head curiously. “Ballard?” he wonders. “As in Ballard’s Bakery?”

I nod. “Yes, that’s right. It’s so nice to meet you, Dr. Burke. Thank you for everything you did for Denny.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replies warmly. “I’ve had several items from your bakery, and all of them were delicious.”

I dip my head, blushing. Denny is beaming beside me; he knows how I feel when people praise my business. “She’s the greatest,” he exclaims. “Lucky for me, she likes goofballs with formerly bum tickers.”

“It’s a hard type to find,” I joke. “I had to take a chance on him.” Dr. Burke chuckles as I continue. “Thank you very much for the kind compliment, Dr. Burke. I’m here bringing a few things up to your Christmas party, actually.”

“Well, let me help you,” he offers chivalrously. “I’m headed there now.” He and Denny pick up all of the boxes and Dr. Burke leads us to a room that’s clearly decked out for the holidays. I open the door for everyone and we slip inside.

Denny is welcomed affectionately as I busy myself setting everything out; Dr. Burke helps me. “You don’t have to do that, you know,” I tell him. “It’s my job, after all.”

“Nonsense,” he responds, and then pauses. “You obviously make him very happy,” he points out. “I’ve never seen him smile like that before, and I gave the man a new heart.”

I blush. “I hope I do,” I admit softly, turning to look over my shoulder. Denny is surrounded by people, and I turn fully to look at him when he gestures to me. He steps forward, grabbing my hand and pulling me to him. Everyone cheers and I know I’m bright red; normally, I would be even more embarrassed, but he’s so giddy that I don’t care.

“Kiss her!” someone yells. I hide my face in his scarf; he bends and puts his mouth to my ear.

“We’re under mistletoe,” he teases. “It’s bad luck if we don’t.”

I tip my head up to look into his big hazel eyes; they’re sparkling with glee. “You made that up,” I whisper.

He raises his eyebrows. “Maybe I did,” he confesses. “Either way, we shouldn’t risk it.”

He frames my face in his big hands and presses his lips to mine.

I sigh, clinging to him, letting him kiss me breathless.

The party erupts into excited shouts around us and he kisses me even harder. I can feel his heart beating; it’s steady and strong.

When he finally pulls away, he gives me a dazzling grin. “Let’s go home.” He turns and slings an arm over my shoulders, giving everybody a little wave goodbye. I wave too, my cheeks still red.

As we walk through the doors of the lobby, I see that it’s started to snow. Denny stops, turning to face me, biting his lip shyly.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” he apologizes worriedly. “They like to see their patients doing well, and I was here for so long…”

He trails off and I stare up at him happily. “You’re really all right.”

Denny nods, bending down so his forehead is pressed against mine. “I really am, Robin,” he answers sincerely. “And I love you,” he adds softly before kissing me again.

“I love you, Denny,” I reply, melting against him as I kiss him back.

The snow falls around us in cold whorls, but I am entirely warm.


	5. Reindeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Denny watch _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_.

**Robin**

I’m curled up beside Denny on the couch. We both have steaming cups of homemade hot chocolate with candy canes in them, and Denny is humming happily as he sips his.

“This is so good, honey,” he compliments me. I squeeze him lightly, my head leaning on his shoulder, and smile.

“Thank you,” I reply, turning my attention back to the movie. My favorite holiday film, _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ , is on. My family only ever begrudgingly watched it with me, but Denny had excitedly exclaimed that he wanted to watch it when I asked.

I’m consistently amazed by him; every day he gives me a new reason to love him more.

When Denny finishes his hot chocolate, he sets his mug on the coffee table and stretches. “I’m going to get chubby if we keep dating,” he teases, poking his belly. “I need to exercise more.”

I giggle, setting my own mug aside and throwing my arms around him. “Don’t worry,” I assure him. “You’ll still be cute.”

He grins down at me wickedly, and then he’s standing up from the couch and swinging me around in a circle. I squeal and start to laugh as he yells, “I’m cute! I’m cute! I’m cute! I’m cute! She said I’m cute! She said I’m cute!” He knows it’s my favorite scene from the movie, and I hang on tight until he flops onto the couch on his back with me on top of him.

I rest my forehead on his, cradling his neck in one hand and splaying the other over his chest. Once we’ve both stopped laughing, I kiss his nose and tell him, “Okay, now I think you’re cuter.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“Damn straight I am,” he agrees. 

Before I can respond, he pulls my face down to his and we kiss between more laughter.


	6. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny helps Robin decorate Christmas cookies.

**Robin**

I stand next to Denny, tilting my head curiously. He finishes and straightens up proudly. “There,” he declares, glancing sideways at me, waiting for my opinion.

I take a deep breath before asking, “What… is it… exactly?”

His face falls. “Babe! It’s a Christmas tree! I worked so hard on it!” He pouts and I reach out, turning him to face me and pulling the frosting tube out of his hand so I can set it on the counter. I’m trying to think of how I can explain that I had to take multiple classes in cookie decorating before I was good at it without hurting his feelings more.

“I know!” I find myself saying instead. “I was just teasing, Denny. It’s perfect.” I don’t even care. I’ll put it in the window and sell it if it will make him feel better.

As I stare at him plaintively, his lips curl up in a smile and he starts to laugh. “Are you serious?” he snorts. “Because that cookie looks like shit.”

I poke him in the chest and try to back away, but he grabs my waist and drags me closer to him. “You ass!” I giggle. “I thought you actually felt bad!”

“Aw,” he coos, kissing my nose as I attempt to frown up at him. He chuckles as he drops his mouth to mine. “You’re physically incapable of being mad at me,” he points out giddily.

“Shut up,” I protest, my arms automatically going around his neck as he pulls me in for a kiss. He kisses me once, twice, three times, very gently, teasing me. I grip his shirt collar and nip at his lower lip. He smirks and I whisper, “You owe me a lot of sex to make up for this, Duquette.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees. “Want me to start now?”

“Damn straight I do,” I breathe.

He presses me up against the wall, kissing me harder; when his hips dig into mine, I gasp. “Hang on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling my thigh up, massaging it in his large, warm hand.

“I love you,” I answer.

“I know.” He winks at me, and then his lips begin to trace a hot, damp trail down my neck.


	7. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny and Robin make a snow angel.

**Robin**

I come home from the bakery to find Denny lying in the front yard. He’s smiling from ear to ear, and even though I’m exhausted, I smile too.

I leave my things on the porch and walk over to him. It’s dusk; colors dance beautifully in the sky as a light snow falls, and the stars are just becoming visible. It’s my favorite time of night.

I stand in front of him, gently nudging his toe with my boot. “What are you up to?” I tease.

“Making a snow angel,” he answers. He stops moving his arms and legs and props himself up on his elbows so he can look at me. “But now I don’t need one, because there’s an angel standing right in front of me.”

I shake my head as he chuckles. “Really, Denny? You thought that line would work on me?”

He grins. “All my lines have worked on you so far.” I laugh and reach for him.

“Come inside with me?” I ask. Instead of getting up, he grabs my hands, pulling me down gently until he’s on his back and I’m lying on top of him. I align my legs with his so I don’t ruin the snow angel, resting my cheek on his chest.

“Make a snow angel with me first,” he requests quietly. I scoot up and gently rest my face against his, brushing our mouths together as we move our arms and legs to make the snow angel. When we’re finished, he wraps his arms around me, holding my head in one of his large, warm hands and pressing his mouth more firmly against mine.

“You really are an angel,” Denny whispers. I blush.

“So are you,” I reply. He blushes too and kisses me again.

“I love you, Robin,” he says, gazing up at me happily.

“I love you, Denny.”

I shriek as he rolls me over so I’m the one in the snow, laughing uncontrollably as he kisses every inch of my face before capturing my lips with his. I kiss him back eagerly, twining my arms around his neck.

“You ruined the snow angel,” I pout. He tilts his head, glancing around us, and shrugs.

“Worth it,” he tells me, winking. “Besides, we can always make another one later.”

“Okay,” I agree, kissing him one more time as the snow falls around us.


	8. Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny and Robin decorate their Christmas tree.

**Denny**

I open the door, taking a deep breath as I step inside the house. As usual, Robin’s been baking; I smell cranberries, oranges, and the spices that go in mulled wine. I slip off all my winterwear and pad through the living room, thinking that I’ll find her in the kitchen. Instead, I see her standing in front of the Christmas tree, her back facing me and her arms crossed over her chest. She turns when she hears me approach.

I stop in my tracks when I realize that she’s crying.

She bites her lip and turns away from me again, bowing her head. I know she feels guilty when she cries in front of me. She told me once that she wants my life to be happy because I’ve been through so much, and that she doesn’t want to burden me with her problems.

But I love her, and I want her to be happy too.

I set the gift bag I’m holding on the coffee table and walk over to her, pulling her into my arms. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I ask tenderly, smoothing a lock of her light brown hair over her ear. She looks up at me, her big hazel eyes full of tears. Instead of saying anything, she just buries her face in my chest and sobs.

I hold her tightly, pressing my lips to her forehead comfortingly. “Shh, shh,” I murmur. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m here.” She’s warm and soft against me, and I begin rubbing her back gently, trying to get her to stop trembling. After a few minutes, she becomes very still; finally, she moves her hands so they’re framing my face and peeks up at me.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes quietly, and I shake my head, looping my arms around her shoulders and brushing my nose lightly against hers.

“You don’t have to apologize, Robin,” I assure her. “Just tell me what I can do to make it better.”

She glances at the Christmas tree and hesitantly points out, “We don’t have any ornaments.”

I look at the tree. It’s glistening with silver tinsel and the colored lights I put on it, but she’s right. We don’t have any ornaments.

“We can get as many ornaments as you want,” I tell her. I know there must be more to the story, so I’m not sure it’s the right thing to say.

She sighs. “It’s not about how many there are,” she admits. “They should be special.”

“Special how?” I wonder patiently. She slips out of my embrace and takes my hands, leading me to the couch. I sit down and pull her into my lap, cradling her head against my shoulder. She puts her arms around my neck.

“My mother used to give me a Christmas ornament every year,” she reveals. I turn my head so I can gaze down at her. We’ve talked about almost everything, but she’s always skirted the topic of her family. I’ve never pressed her; there are things I haven’t told her about my family as well. I’d assumed that something bad had happened to hers and she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Each ornament meant something,” she continues. “It was a tradition I liked. I thought about doing it for myself the past few years, but it seemed pointless since I was alone. Now that we’re together, I want to start doing it again.”

“I’d like that,” I reply, glancing at the bag I brought home with me. She doesn’t know what’s in it yet. “What about the ornaments your mother gave you? Should we put those on the tree?”

She stands, wringing her hands and pacing back and forth. “I don’t have them anymore,” she confesses quietly. I get up and go to her, letting my hand rest in the small of her back, intertwining my fingers with hers and lifting them to my lips.

“Tell me what happened, Robin. Please.”

She turns and looks at me, clearly distressed. I nuzzle her face gently, gratified when I see her smile because of the gesture. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me love you less,” I inform her.

“I know that, Denny.” She turns back to the tree and kneels down beside a stack of plastic boxes. I step closer, studying them, and notice that each one is separated into compartments.

“What are these?” I kneel down beside her.

“Ornament boxes,” she answers quietly. I run my hand over the top box.

“There’s enough for hundreds of ornaments here,” I comment, and she nods.

“One ornament for each of us every year, and for… any others,” she responds, her face flushing deeply. I beam at her even though she’s not looking at me.

I haven’t told her yet that I want everything with her.

I want her to walk down an aisle toward me wearing a stunning white dress.

I want to fill this house with our babies.

I just want her. For the rest of my life. And I hope it’s a long one.

I think she knows. I think she feels the same way.

I really should tell her.

“This is how long I want us to be together.” She places her palms on top of the ornament boxes. “Long enough to fill these boxes.”

I pull her into my side, resting my chin on the top of her head. “It will take the rest of our lives,” I observe nonchalantly. She nods.

“That’s why you should know that I don’t talk to my family anymore, Denny. They… hurt me. Not physically. Emotionally. Mentally. It took me a long time to realize it, and they… don’t understand. They want me to be someone I’m not. They want me to be who they want me to be, but I want to be happy instead. I… can’t talk to them. Until I met you, I was completely alone. I had been for a long time. I don’t have the ornaments anymore because I didn’t want them. All they did was remind me of everything they think I’ve done wrong.”

She falls silent, clearly on the verge of tears again.

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. Is there anything I can say? I just want to make her pain go away.

I grab the bag I brought home off of the table. “I got this for you while I was out.” I hand it to her. “To commemorate our first Christmas together.”

She looks at me curiously, reaching into the sparkly green bag and pushing aside the gold tissue paper. When she pulls out the gift, her eyes widen in surprise.

I smile at her. “I thought you’d like it,” I declare bashfully, dipping my head.

“Oh, Denny… I love it,” she confirms, holding it delicately in her hands.

The ornament is a house. There are lights on the eaves, and a large Christmas tree in the front yard. I couldn’t find one that looked exactly like our house, but it’s close enough.

I reach out, stroking her cheekbone. “I’m sorry you were hurt, Robin. I wish I had been there to comfort you.” I take a deep breath and lean forward, gathering her into my arms and lifting her gently into my lap. “I’m here now, and I will never hurt you. I promise. I love you.”

She looks up at me. Her eyes are full of hope. “I love you, Denny.” I stand up, bringing her with me, and turn her toward the tree.

“Let’s put our first ornament up,” I suggest. I reach out and touch a branch on the tree. “How about right here?” She nods happily, slipping the little house onto the tree and adjusting it until it hangs perfectly. I hold her tightly, pressing my lips to her cheek. 

She turns so our mouths are touching instead. I kiss her softly, speaking quietly against her lips. “I’ll buy you a million ornaments if it will make you happy, Robin.”

She twines her arms around my neck and holds onto me tightly. “I don’t need a million ornaments if I have you, Denny.”

I lift her up off of the floor so we’re face-to-face and press our mouths together again. “You’ll always have me. Always.”

Her smile is brighter than the Christmas tree.

After I got sick, I stopped believing in happily ever after. When I saw her for the first time, I found that belief again.

Now I’m living happily ever after every single day.


	9. Christmas Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny goes caroling, but Robin has to stay home and work.

**Robin**

I’m in the kitchen, surrounded by boxes from the bakery, crossing items off my list of special orders. It’s always insanely busy during the holidays, but I still insist on baking everything myself, and that means working at home sometimes.

Denny is out caroling. I know he wanted me to go, but I appreciate that he understands my vision for my business and is willing to compromise sometimes. Still, I find myself sighing and wishing I had gone anyway.

I miss him whenever we’re not together. It’s probably silly, but I just like knowing that he’s there. That, if I wanted to, I could go give him a hug or sit with him for a few minutes.

The doorbell rings. I look down at myself, making sure I’m not too much of a mess, then walk out into the hallway to answer it.

Denny is standing on our porch, smiling broadly, his hands in his pockets. I gaze at him curiously. Why didn’t he just come inside?

Then he says, “Good evening, ma’am. I’m your friendly neighborhood Christmas caroler and I have a song I’d like to sing to you.”

I smile back at him, leaning against the doorframe as he starts to sing. He’s untrained, but he has a lot of enthusiasm.

_I don’t want a lot for Christmas_   
_There is just one thing I need_   
_I don’t care about the presents_   
_Underneath the Christmas tree_   
_I just want you for my own_   
_More than you could ever know_   
_Make my wish come true_   
_All I want for Christmas is you_

As he sings, my stomach tightens and my eyes well up with tears.

I don’t know what I did to deserve him. Maybe I don’t deserve him. But I’m not giving him up, not for anything in this world.

Before he can start the next verse, I step outside, taking his face in my hands and standing on my tiptoes so I can kiss him. He melts into my kiss, his arms circling my waist as he holds me against him. When he starts to pull away, I bring his lips back to mine and kiss him harder; he stumbles and moans into my mouth.

“Are you this nice to all of the carolers?” he finally manages to ask. “Because I might have to start a few fights.”

“Shh,” I protest, kissing him again and tugging him through the door. He kicks it closed behind us as I tear off his hat and scarf and start to unbutton his jacket.

“Do you have anything in the oven?” he gasps as he shrugs the jacket off, reaching behind me and untying my apron as he kisses his way down my neck.

“No,” I answer breathlessly, my head tipping back as he pushes my skirt up, his hand slipping between my thighs, his long fingers cupping me gently. “Denny, I need you!”

He nods, shifting his hands so he can carry me. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hang on tight as he carries me up the stairs. I’m reminded of the first time we made love. He lifted me the same way and I panicked, thinking I was too heavy and he might hurt himself because of his heart. He’d assured me that he was as healthy as a horse and that I was as light as a feather. Now he picks me up every chance he gets just to prove me wrong.

Denny sets me gently on the bed, pulling my skirt and panties down and tossing them aside before skimming his fingers back up my sides and lifting off my apron and shirt. Finally, he unclasps my bra and I’m naked on the bed in front of him. I resist my natural urge to cover myself; I’ve always been self-conscious about my body because of my weight. I’m not fat, exactly, but I’m not thin either.

“You are so beautiful,” Denny reassures me, leaning in for a kiss. Somehow, he always knows what I’m thinking.

“And you’re wearing too much,” I point out, slipping my hands under his shirt and running my fingers through the soft hair on his belly. His muscles contract as he takes a rushed breath, then leans back so he can take his clothes off.

As he kicks away his shoes, pushes his pants down, and pulls his shirt over his head, I have a moment. I always have a moment when he reveals his scar to me. I’ve felt better about everything since we visited the hospital, but it’s still frightening to think of how close he came to dying.

He leans over me, completely naked now, and nuzzles my nose with his. “Come back to me, sweetheart,” he pleads, shivering as I trace his scar gently. “You know that everything’s all right.”

“I know,” I respond, but my voice is trembling. I will it to stop, twining my arms around his neck and pulling him into the center of the bed with me. He rests his full weight on my body, pressing me down into the comforter and kissing me again. His tongue slips into my mouth and tangles with mine, and I sigh wantonly as I feel how hard he is.

I squeeze his thighs tightly between mine and push up with all my strength so I can flip him over. Once he realizes what I’m doing, he helps, smiling up at me as I straddle his hips and run my palms over his chest and down his stomach before grasping his stiff length. He squeezes my hips hard in his big, warm hands, biting his lip as he rocks up into my touch.

Usually I like to be underneath him, covered by his long, lean body, cocooned in his warmth. Tonight, I want to show him how much I love him. I want to be in control.

I position him at my entrance, rising up on my knees and holding him steady so that I can slide slowly onto him. He squirms underneath me, breathing hard as I sink down until my thighs meet his. I put my hand on his lower belly, tugging on the dark curls gathered just above where we’re joined together. He shakes as his fingers glide up my sides, his thumbs teasing my erect nipples. I sigh; his hands are just large enough to cover my generous breasts, and he squeezes them as I start to roll my hips slowly.

Denny’s hands slide around to my back, pulling me down until my chest is cushioned against his. I reach up, tangling my hands in his hair, moving faster as his palms cup my bottom. I press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his scar as we rock together, our pace slow but steady. I love the way he feels inside me, and I begin moaning loudly each time he fills me completely.

His breathing and pace are erratic now, so I know that he’s close. “Denny, it’s okay,” I pant, but his hands grip me harder and he shakes his head.

“Not before you, baby.” Then I’m on my back. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and kisses me hungrily, shifting his hips until he finds the spot deep inside me that always makes me come undone. I cry out his name as he drives into me, my feet digging into the backs of his thighs.

“Denny! Denny! Oh, yes, Denny, yes!” My back arches up off of the bed, the natural curve of my belly meeting the leaner plane of his as I start to come around him. We pant into each other’s mouths and he finally unfurls, burying his face in my neck as he spills inside me.

He mumbles my name repeatedly against my skin as we shudder together, thrusting shallowly as we both finish. We’re bathed in sweat, our hair damp, and as we relax back into the bed, I know we’re both completely satisfied.

Denny runs his hands through my hair, kissing me softly. “Did you get enough, babe?” he wonders, resting his nose against mine. I smile at him, trailing my fingers up and down his strong arms.

“You know I did,” I tease, and he beams at me.

“I like to make sure my girl is taken care of,” he says sincerely, winking. He kisses me one more time before carefully getting up and walking to the bathroom. I turn onto my side, watching him as he cleans himself off. When he’s finished, he grabs a washcloth and gets it wet before coming back to the bed and sitting beside me. He rubs it against me gently, mindful of how sensitive I still am.

“What are you thinking, Robin?” I reach up and touch his face; he leans his cheek against my palm.

“I’m thinking about how beautiful you are, and how lucky I am that you love me,” I answer, my voice barely audible. Denny throws the washcloth on top of the pile of our discarded clothes and pulls the bedcovers down, tucking me between them before cuddling up next to me.

He wraps his arms around me; I rest my head on his shoulder, running my hand over his chest, tangling my fingers in the soft hair there. I yawn and snuggle against him, absorbing his heat. “I’m lucky that you love me too,” he hums, pressing his lips to my forehead, his fingers brushing the side of my face. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Robin,” he admits.

I tilt my head up as he tilts his down. His hazel eyes are sweet and hopeful, and I smile up at him happily. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you too, Denny,” I tell him. He leans down and kisses me thoroughly and passionately. “I love you,” I murmur, clinging to his body. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want him.

“I love you, Robin.” My eyes are lidded and heavy, and he’s so warm and comforting; I can’t help starting to fall asleep against him. “Rest, sweetheart,” he urges me, smoothing a lock of hair over my ear. “I’ll be right here.” 

I nod sleepily against him, and he starts to sing as I drift off in his arms.

_I just want you for my own_   
_More than you could ever know_   
_Make my wish come true_   
_Baby, all I want for Christmas is you_


	10. Presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny gives Robin an early Christmas present.

I wake up slowly, finally realizing that Denny isn’t beside me. I sit up and glance around the room, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and slipping out of bed. I grab a pair of clean panties from my drawer and slip one of Denny’s soft long-sleeved shirts on, ruffling my unruly hair as I make my way downstairs.

“Denny?” I peek my head into the living room. He’s standing by the Christmas tree. His back is to me, but when he hears my voice, he whirls around quickly, holding something behind him. I look at him curiously and he smiles sheepishly, blushing.

“Is everything all right?” I walk over to him, stretching up on my tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth. He kisses me back lightly.

“Of course everything is all right,” he says nervously. “I just… want to… give you an early Christmas present.”

“Denny, it’s only December 10,” I point out.

“I know,” he pouts. “But I don’t want to wait.” He looks so worried and so earnest, and suddenly, I’m concerned. I grip the bottom of the shirt he’s wearing in my hands, twisting it slightly.

“Okay. Give me my present,” I tell him, smiling reassuringly. He grins at me before taking a deep breath.

His shirt slips from my hands as he slowly kneels down in front of me and holds up a tiny black velvet box. “Denny,” I gasp, covering my mouth in surprise, my eyes widening.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Robin.” His voice is soft and reverent. I’ve imagined this moment, fantasized about it, and after last night, I thought it might come soon, but I hadn’t expected it today.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he repeats, “and I don’t want to wait anymore. I love you, and I want to move forward as soon as we can. So…” I notice that his hand is shaking. Is he actually nervous? Does he really think I’ll say no? “Will you marry me?” he finally asks.

He lifts the lid of the box and I gasp again as I stare at the ring inside.

It’s vintage Victorian; in my free time, I like reading about history and indulging in novels from different eras, and Denny and I had talked about the Victorians extensively. A large pear-shaped yellow opal dominates the setting; it’s surrounded by dozens of diamonds in intricate white gold scrollwork. The band and the thin strip of metal surrounding the opal are yellow gold. It’s breathtaking, and far too extravagant, and I love it.

I fall to my knees in front of Denny, closing the box and laying it aside before framing his face with my hands. His expression falls and he looks at me mournfully. “You don’t like it?” he wonders. I press my forehead to his, gently shaking my head back and forth.

“Denny, I love it,” I breathe. My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely hear myself think. “I just want you to know that I’m saying yes to you. I’m not saying yes to a beautiful ring. I don’t need anything but you to be happy.” He’s beaming now, and I wrap one arm around his shoulders, tangling my hand in the hair at the back of his neck.

“Yes, Denny. Yes, I’ll marry you.” He throws his arms around me and kisses me over and over excitedly. When he pulls away briefly to take the ring from the box and slip it onto my finger, I realize that he’s crying.

“Denny,” I soothe him, stroking his hair with my free hand, “did you really think I would say no?” He intertwines our fingers, gazing at the ring I’m now wearing for a moment before he looks at me once more.

“I’m afraid you’ll come to your senses and realize you could do so much better than me,” he admits. “That you’ll find a man with the heart he was born with who’s never been sick so you don’t have to worry about him.”

I sigh, brushing my nose over his and lightly pressing our lips together. “I know I worry about you,” I acknowledge. “But that’s because I love you, Denny. I only want you. I’d never be happy with anyone else. Okay?” He nods and I kiss him again.

“The ring really is beautiful,” I tell him. “I don’t know how you found it.”

He smiles bashfully, tracing the scrollwork with his finger. “I saw it in a shop window and I knew it was yours,” he muses. He pauses for a moment before he adds, “It was February 23.”

“February 23?” I exclaim. “Denny, we weren’t even dating then!” He cups my jaw in his hand and runs his thumb over my lower lip as he chuckles.

“I was already madly in love with you,” he reveals. “I was head over heels the instant you held my hand in your bakery. You don’t know how hard it was for me to leave that first night. I never wanted to let you out of my sight.” He bends so that his mouth is caressing mine. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you for my entire life, Robin.”

“I’m here, Denny,” I murmur, leaning up so that our lips connect.

We kiss, and it’s different than any other kiss we’ve shared, because it carries the weight of a thousand beautiful promises for our future.


	11. Ice Skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny takes Robin ice skating for the first time.

Denny tightens the laces on my skate. “You’re ready!” he excitedly exclaims. I glance at the ice nervously.

“Are you sure?” I ask as he helps me to my feet. He puts one arm around my waist and guides me to the edge of the rink.

“Trust me, babe,” he assures me, and I nod. We slip carefully out onto the smooth surface and I grab him as my feet slide. His big, strong hands keep me upright. “Slowly,” he cautions, keeping us close to the wall just in case.

“Don’t let me fall,” I whisper. Denny stops, leaning over to kiss my nose.

“You know I would never,” he promises.

We make it around once without incident, but on our second lap, my foot goes rogue, tangling with his, and we both crash to the ground. Denny takes the brunt of the fall, cushioning me against him.

For a moment, I’m worried, and I twist to ask him if he’s okay, but before I can, he’s laughing. He sits up, pulling me between his legs and letting my back rest against his chest. “Ouch,” I murmur. He chuckles, pressing his lips to my cheek.

“It’s not your first time ice skating if you don’t fall,” he tells me, shrugging genially.

“I’m not telling you I’ve never done something ever again,” I grumble. His arms tighten around me and he tips my head back. His face is anxious.

“Are you really upset, honey?” I smile up at him and he rolls his eyes. “Oh, I get it. You’re just trying to make me feel bad so I suck up to you later.”

I reach up, grasping the edge of the wall so I can get back on my feet. Once I’m there, I hold out my hand for him, helping him to his feet too. I turn carefully, using my arms to keep my balance, and then pull him into a hug, my chin resting on his chest.

Denny leans down, kissing me softly. “Sorry I let you fall,” he says.

“You helped me back up,” I point out, then wrinkle my nose. “My butt’s cold, though. And probably bruised.” He grins and kisses me again.

“I’ll give it a very thorough inspection later just to be safe,” he winks.

“Oh, will you?” I reply lightly. He nods and kisses me a third time. I’m getting light-headed, but I still manage to joke, “You can’t kiss me into submission, Duquette.”

“Yes, I can,” he states firmly, pressing me against the wall and slipping his tongue into my mouth eagerly. I whimper. “See?” he rumbles, his hips digging into mine.

“Maybe we should put some ice on that,” I gasp as his erection brushes against my thigh.

“I think heat will be much more effective,” he counters, twisting our hands together. “Come on,” he urges. “Let’s go home.”

****

Later, in bed, we lie on our sides facing each other. His arms are around me and my leg is slung over his thigh, and we’re both breathing hard.

“See? Heat was much more effective,” he pants. I cup his face in both hands and kiss him tenderly.

“Thank you for taking me ice skating, Denny.”

“I thought you didn’t like it,” he admits quietly. I laugh and kiss his nose.

“I loved it, silly.” My hand drops to his chest and I stroke my fingers through the dark curls of hair there. “I love everything as long as I’m with you.”

“Aw,” he coos teasingly, but I can see how happy the comment makes him.

“I love you, Denny,” I whisper, kissing his chest before resting my cheek against it and closing my eyes. He’s so warm, and I feel so safe in his arms.

He turns his head and kisses the spot on my finger just below my engagement ring. “I love you, Robin.”


	12. Holiday Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny thinks Robin needs a vacation.

“Denny?” I call, wandering into the bedroom and beginning to shed my clothes. I stop when I see a box on the bed with a card resting on top of it. Another gift?

I pick up the card and read the words on the front.

_Open me, put me on, and come into the bathroom._

I reach for the lid of the box, lifting it delicately and setting it aside. I stare at what’s inside skeptically. “Denny Duquette,” I mutter, “I have never worn a bikini in my life. You have got to be kidding.” Reflexively, I turn the card over in my hand and suddenly notice that there’s writing on the opposite side as well.

_I am not kidding._

_And stop muttering at me._

I huff at the note, throwing it on the bed and rolling my eyes before pulling the bikini out of the box, stripping naked and putting it on.

I have to admit that it feels nice. The bottom is similar to the boy short style panties I wear, and the top cups my breasts nicely and has sturdy straps. It’s purple, one of my favorite colors, with horizontal pinstripes; Denny knows what I like. I tie the little bow on the front of the top and walk to the bathroom, pushing the door open a little self-consciously.

“Denny?” He’s leaning against the wall of the bathroom; he grins broadly when he sees me. I glance around the bathroom curiously. There’s a giant beach chair big enough for two people set in front of the bathtub, which is filled with water. An inflatable palm tree is sitting in the corner, and the room smells like the ocean. “What’s all this?”

He pushes away from the wall, stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside before he reaches me. “You look dynamite, doll,” he teases, pulling me in for a kiss and running his hands up and down my body. I put my arms around his neck and kiss him back, momentarily distracted.

“What are you up to?” I ask, one of my hands playing with the soft hair on his chest, the other buried in the curls at his neck.

“You need a vacation,” he answers. “I know you can’t actually take one right now because of the bakery, so I made one for you instead.”

I smile at him, blushing a little. He really does the sweetest things for me. “A beach, huh?” I wonder.

“Yup,” he says, leaning down so he can scoop me up into his arms and carry me to the chair. He sets me down and kisses me again. “So I get to see you in that cute bathing suit.”

“Do I get to see yours?” I counter, nodding at his track pants. He smirks before slipping his fingers into the waistband and dragging it down, revealing a black Speedo swimsuit.

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh, but I fail spectacularly. I actually snort as Denny crawls onto the chair next to me, snuggling into my side, his long fingers plucking at the bow on my top and tugging it loose. “Hey!” I protest, playfully pushing his hands away. “We are on the beach, mister.”

He chuckles, twining our fingers together and leaning in to kiss my neck. “I forgot to tell you,” he explains. “It’s a private nude beach.”

I gasp as he kisses his way down to my chest, his hands peeling my bikini cups away before he lifts me onto his lap. I put my arms around his neck and press my breasts against his face, tangling my hands in his hair. “Then why did I need a bathing suit at all?” I breathe, reaching down between us and releasing him from his own bathing suit.

He groans, rocking his hips up as I start to stroke him slowly. His thumbs circle my nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks. “Because I knew you’d never put one on unless I made you,” Denny groans, barely able to keep his composure as I twist the leaking head of his cock in my hand. “Robin…” His voice is shaky as he pulls me closer, swirling his tongue around one of my nipples before tugging it into his mouth. I whimper, letting him suck on both of my breasts before lightly pushing him away.

“Lean back, Denny,” I murmur. He obeys, reclining on the chair, supporting himself on his elbows as he watches me kneel between his legs. I slip my bathing suit back into place, my nipples straining against the tight fabric, and then bend to take Denny into my mouth.

He moans loudly as I slowly slide my lips over him, his hands fluttering until I grab them and guide them into my hair. I look up at him and he’s biting his lip, his eyes locked on me as my mouth brushes the dark nest of curls between his legs. I hum softly, sending vibrations up and down his shaft; his hips buck up involuntarily, his hands tightening on me.

I bob my head up and down faster, slipping a hand between my own legs to lightly circle my clit. I’m already drenched because I love going down on him, and as I touch myself, my pace becomes erratic. Denny’s hands tug gently and I lift my head, sitting up on my knees and balancing myself by putting my hands on his thighs. I pout at him in mock disappointment.

“You never want to finish in my mouth,” I point out, and though his breathing is heavy and his cock is twitching against his belly, he grins.

“I like it when we both finish at the same time,” he agrees, reaching forward and undoing the bikini top so he can throw it aside before pushing me down on my back in the chair. He slips out of his bathing suit and removes the bottom of mine before crawling on top of me, nudging my legs apart with his knee and putting his hands back in my hair as he kisses me roughly.

“I was going to make that happen,” I explain, putting my arms around his shoulders and twining my thighs around his. He shakes his head as he presses against my entrance, and I make a strangled sound of desire.

He shakes his head. “I like it when you’re around me,” he rasps, pushing inside me as he speaks. My toes curl as pleasure sparks up and down my spine, and Denny shudders. “So hot and wet,” he murmurs, then seals his mouth over mine again, kissing me ravenously as we start to rock together.

He’s close, and I’m not far behind him. He shifts above me until he’s hitting just the right spot with each thrust in, the trail of hair on his lower belly rubbing against the nub between my legs as he moves. I arch my back, pressing my whole body against his, needing, wanting to finish.

I know that when he said he likes it when we finish at the same time, he didn’t mean the exact same time, but this is one of the rare instances when we both peak at precisely the same moment. We pant together as we unravel, and I have one of those intense lucid flashes that remind me how incredibly lucky I am that I found him.

Denny finally collapses, breathing hard, and I run my hands over his back in soothing circles, turning my head so I can kiss his cheek. He clings to me and I smile.

“I love you, Denny.”

He has to calm himself before he can answer. “I love you, Robin.” He props himself up so he can look down at my face. “Want to take a dip in the ocean?” he jokes, gesturing at the bathtub. “I hear the water’s nice this time of year.”

I nod, letting him pull me up and gather me close before he steps into the hot water. It feels so good after a long day at work, and I sigh, snuggling into his chest as he settles himself comfortably in the tub.

“Thank you for my vacation, Denny,” I tell him, closing my eyes.

His lips brush my forehead. “Anything for you, sweetheart,” he replies.


	13. Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny visits Robin at work.

I’m taking inventory in the back of the bakery when I feel arms wrap around me from behind. I yelp in surprise, then the arms turn me around and I’m looking up at Denny. I shake my head and playfully poke him in the chest. “You scared me!” He grins.

“I’ll just have to comfort you, then,” he coos, leaning in to kiss me. My protest about being at work dies on my lips as he takes his time, giving me one of his long, slow, thorough kisses, the ones I like the best. I whimper and he smiles, pulling back to beam at me.

I open my eyes, blinking rapidly as I notice his sweater. “Denny, what are you wearing?” I ask.

He glances down at the Christmas tree on a red and white background covering his chest; the tree has little puffball ornaments all over it. “My aunt sent it to me for Christmas,” he shrugs, and I laugh. Only Denny would actually wear this sweater in public; he’s such a sweetheart. 

I reach out, flicking one of the knit ornaments jutting out from the tree. He frowns at me in mock disapproval. “What are you doing?”

I giggle. “I’m playing with your balls,” I tease, reaching out and flicking another one. He raises his eyebrows and blushes, reaching down and adjusting himself a little. I chuckle, pleased to be the one to throw him off for once.

I stand on my tiptoes so I can press my lips to his ear. Denny puts his arms around me; his eyes are half-closed and his breathing is shallow. “Denny,” I breathe, lightly licking his earlobe. His hands tighten on me and I feel his heart start to beat faster against my chest; he presses his face against mine so I can feel how blazing hot his skin is. 

“Go home, take off all your clothes, and get into bed,” I instruct. He nods to show he understands. “And think about me while you pleasure yourself.” He leans his hips against my thigh so I can feel how hard he is and I smile, biting down on his earlobe so that he can’t help but gasp against my cheek. He pulls back to look at me; his eyes have darkened to the color of espresso and they’re clouded with lust.

I run my hands up into his hair and wink at him. I press my lips to his, saying my next words against them. “Then I want you to curl up with my pillow and take a nap until I come home.”

He cups my face in his hands, kissing me deeply and eagerly. “What happens when you get home?” he manages to stammer, clearly flustered.

I kiss him one more time, tugging the long sweater down over the front of his pants. He squirms excitedly as I run my thumb gently over his lower lip. “When I get home,” I whisper, “I’ll make all the fantasies you had about me come true. Now go, honey.” I smile at him sweetly.

He leans forward, unable to resist kissing me one more time. “Come home soon,” he begs, and I nod.

“As soon as I can,” I assure him. “I promise.”

He turns and hurries out the back door, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

I bite my lower lip, squeeze my thighs together, and count faster.


	14. Santa Claus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny follows Robin's instructions and spends the afternoon in bed.

I do exactly what she tells me. By the time I slip between our sheets and press her pillow to my face, I want her so badly I can barely think.

I don’t know what’s going on with me lately. I mean, I always want her, all the time. But this is a desperate want, closer to a need than anything else. Maybe it’s because she said yes to my proposal. Ever since she did, this whole future I’ve imagined for us has been unfurling in my mind, and I can’t wait to experience it.

I was sick for so long that I thought my life was over. Even when I realized that I wasn’t sick anymore, I didn’t think I’d find someone willing to take a chance on me. But she did. She took a chance on me so fast that it made my head spin. I know she’s afraid sometimes, but she’s never looked back.

Her pillow is covered in her scent. She uses shampoo that smells like water lilies and body wash that smells like pears. There’s also a hint of mixed baked goods; the aroma of cookies and cakes and breads always lingers when she comes home from the bakery.

I miss her every second that she’s gone.

My phone makes a sound and I grab it from the nightstand. It’s her.

_Are you touching yourself yet?_

I groan, throwing the phone aside and reaching between my legs to grasp my hard length. I’m so frustrated that I can’t even decide what to think about as I start to stroke myself. She flickers through my thoughts in flashes.

Her soft brown hair fanned out over the pillow when she’s underneath me. Her warm hazel eyes staring at me, completely full of love and adoration. The way she bites down on her plump lower lip as she throws her head back, begging me to move faster, harder.

The curve of her neck when her body arches, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly. Her soft breasts and slightly rounded belly rubbing against me as I bury myself deep inside her. I think of how hot and tight she always is around me, briefly remembering our first time. My stomach had flipped when she’d shyly told me she had never been with another man, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about that every time we’re together.

She’s only ever been mine, and she’ll be mine for the rest of my life.

I turn over onto my back, pushing the blankets down so I won’t make a mess. I let my other hand rest on my chest, right over my scar. She always kisses my scar when we make love. I haven’t told her how much I like it, but knowing that she isn’t afraid of it makes me happy.

I rock my hips upward, panting as I think about the way her toes dig into my thighs when we’re tangled together. The sounds she makes are always completely intoxicating. She starts off quiet and breathy, and then, as she gets closer, she also gets louder; eventually she loses all of the inhibitions she has left and screams my name.

I feel myself slipping over the edge, and I fling my arm over my face, biting down as I finish.

It feels good.

But not as good as when she’s with me.

****

After I clean myself up, I wait for her in the bed just like she asked me to. I try to sleep, but I mostly just toss fitfully, her pillow pressed tightly against my face and chest. I just… ache for her. I want her home.

I finally fall asleep at some point, because when I groggily open my eyes, it’s dark outside and she’s crawling into the bed with me. I roll over onto my back and she straddles my hips, burying her hands in my hair and leaning down so her breasts are pressed against my chest. I get hard instantly and she chuckles, kissing my scar lightly.

As I wake up more fully, I realize that she’s completely naked except for a red and white Santa hat perched on top of her head. I laugh low in my throat as she scoots forward, her mouth moving up my chest and to my neck. My laugh turns into a gasp and I reach down to cup her backside. I know that she likes how big my hands are.

She reaches my mouth; her legs are straddling my stomach now. She brushes her lips sensually over mine and I rear up, attempting to deepen the kiss, but she playfully pushes my shoulders down. She flicks her head so that the fluffy ball on the end of the hat rests on my forehead and I laugh again; she grins at me.

“Santa Claus told me that you have been a very, very good boy this year,” she teases, “and sent me to give you an early present.”

I run my hands up and down her nude body; her skin is so warm and soft. “Usually presents are wrapped,” I manage to answer. In response, she takes one of my hands in hers and guides it up to her hat.

“So unwrap me,” she purrs. I look up at her, my eyes wide. There are Christmas lights on all around the neighborhood; her body looks like a stained glass window as the colors filter through our sheer curtains. I carefully slide the hat from her head, mussing her hair a little. I put it on the bed and bring my hand back to her face. She smiles shyly at me, biting her lower lip and shivering as my fingers gently trace her jaw. She has goosebumps all over her body now, and I reach out with my other arm to pull the blankets back around us to keep her warm.

“Tell me what you need, Denny,” she says softly, her hand slipping between us to run over my scar. There are so many things I could ask for. Any sane man in my position would want something wild or crazy, I’m sure. But I’m a man who was held back from my life for five years. I almost died countless times. I almost gave up. It sounds like a Hallmark card, I know, but it made me appreciate everything more. I don’t need wild or crazy. I just need her.

So, with tears welling up in my eyes, I quietly beg, “Just let me make love to you, please, Robin. Make me feel whole.”

It’s a strange feeling. Having someone else’s heart in your chest, I mean. Not physically. Once I’d healed fully, I realized that I pretty much felt the same as I did before I got sick. But knowing that someone else’s heart is beating in there, keeping you alive, is odd at first. It feels like part of you is missing. I’d been out of sorts about it for a while by the time I walked into her bakery.

When I proposed, I told her that I loved her the moment I touched her hand, but I didn’t tell her why. I mean, why should be fairly obvious, for the most part. She’s smart, funny, ambitious, dedicated, and beautiful, of course.

But something happened to me when I touched her hand. For the first time since my heart transplant, I’d felt complete. I have no idea why. I’ve thought about it a lot. Maybe it’s fate. Maybe this heart was from someone who was supposed to love her, and since I got the heart, I had to search for her instead. Maybe she’s my reward for going through so much pain.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter as long as she wants me.

She slips off of me, nestling into the bed on her back and holding out her arms. I roll over so I’m on top of her, leaning down and kissing her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and letting all my weight rest on her. She likes it when I do that.

She sighs happily beneath me, returning my kiss, her hands wandering over my shoulders, back, and sides, stroking softly. I slide one hand up the back of her neck and into her hair, rubbing my erection against her thigh, my tears finally spilling onto my cheeks.

“Oh, Denny,” she murmurs, her fingers coming up to brush my tears away. I touch her lips with my other hand; I’m trembling against her.

“Promise to love me forever,” I whisper, “no matter what happens. It’s the only future I can imagine.”

She leans up, her fingers tangling in my hair, her mouth ghosting over my cheeks and removing the rest of my tears. She shifts her hips so I’m resting against her core; I suck in a breath, twitching as I feel how hot and wet she is against me. She reaches between us, pressing my tip inside of her, and I shudder.

Her hands move to my rear and her thighs curl around mine, her feet digging into my calves. She pulls me forward so I enter her slowly, laying my forehead against hers as I try to breathe evenly. She trails her fingers back up my spine until she can wrap her arms around my shoulders. I continue to push inside her at the same languid pace and she moans beneath me. When our hips finally meet, I stay still to savor the feeling and she speaks.

“Denny,” she pants; her body squeezes involuntarily around me and my hips jerk. She moans again and I kiss her, capturing the sound with my mouth. She smiles against my lips. “Denny,” she starts again, “I love you.” She whimpers as I start to rock gently back and forth, pulling out of her only a little before pushing back in. She clenches around me again and I falter for a moment. She feels so good.

“I only love you, Denny,” she gasps. I pull out further this time, rocking harder now. She holds me tightly. “Denny,” she warns me breathily; she’s quivering underneath me, and I know that she’s close. She comes fast. The first night we were together, she’d been sitting in my lap, grinding against me and kissing me eagerly while I fondled her breasts; barely five minutes had passed when she had trembled ecstatically in my arms. I hadn’t realized what had happened at first, but then she had buried her face in my neck and told me she was sorry.

I rock forward again, hitting the spot inside of her that I know will make her unravel. “Denny! If you don’t stop, I’ll…” I slow down, brushing over the spot very purposefully once more, feeling her shake underneath me with the effort of holding herself back.

I know her now. Some people say that once you’ve learned a partner’s body, sex isn’t interesting anymore. They’re completely wrong. I love being able to make her peak fast or slow, knowing which part of her to touch to get a certain reaction, and saying exactly what she needs to hear at any given moment.

I move my lips to her ear, quickening my pace. She rocks excitedly along with me, and as I open my mouth and trace her earlobe gently with my tongue, I tell her the same thing I told her that first night.

“Don’t hold back,” I murmur. “I want all of your pleasure.”

That’s all it takes for her to cascade over the edge. “Denny!” she screams my name as I keep making love to her, slipping my hand between us to gently stroke the little nub at the apex of her thighs. It prolongs her orgasm as I get close to mine; her reaction pushes me further and further towards my climax.

Finally, she stops moving and collapses underneath me. That’s when I let go. As I thrust into her one final time, I hit that spot again, moving my fingers in a rough circle at exactly the same moment so that she begins to convulse around me once more. She groans loudly as I sink down into and onto her, writhing beneath me, her hips bucking up wildly; she only stays on the bed because of my weight. “Fuck, Denny!” she gasps against my neck, breathing heavily.

I can’t speak; instead I just moan, my face buried in her hair, my toes curling as I empty myself deep inside of her. Her reactions tell me that I’ve given her an orgasm that will make her languid and supple for hours afterward; I haven’t figured out how to do that on demand yet, but I love it when it happens.

I turn my head to the side, cupping her cheek in my hand and kissing her softly. She kisses me back lazily, letting her lips linger against mine, and I smile. “You didn’t let me finish,” she says quietly, blinking her big hazel eyes at me. They’re sparkling and still a little dark with desire.

I raise my eyebrows, pulling out of her and rolling onto my back, snuggling her against me. “I thought I let you finish twice,” I tease. She chuckles and tangles her fingers in the dark curls of hair on my chest. She loves my chest hair; I’m not sure why, but I think it’s adorable.

“Finish talking,” she clarifies, her fingers dancing up my neck and tracing my jawline. I lean down and kiss her again, wrapping my arms around her to pull her tightly to me.

“So finish now,” I murmur. Her hand stills, her thumb resting on my lips.

“Denny,” she whispers, “I love you. I only love you. I…” She takes a deep breath and I know she’s trying not to cry; I press my forehead against hers and rock her gently in my arms. “There aren’t even words that explain how much I love you, Denny,” she says. “And I promise to love you forever, no matter what happens. It’s the only future I can imagine too.” Now she is crying, and I lift my hands so I can wipe away her tears. She lets me and then she sits up, running her hands through her hair before resting her elbows on her knees. I sit up too, taking her hand in mine and rubbing her back soothingly.

“Before I met you, Denny, I was alone,” she admits. “I don’t talk to my family, and I don’t really have any friends. There are people who work for me that like me, sure, but they’re not really my friends. Maybe because I’ve never tried hard enough to make them my friends. I buried myself in the bakery because it was the only thing I had.” She turns so she’s looking at me and she cups my face in her warm palms.

“Then you walked through my door,” she continues, “and I found something I never thought I would have. Most of the time I don’t understand why you love me, Denny, but I don’t care if I don’t understand, as long as you do.” I reach out, pulling her into my lap and holding her close to me. She wraps her arms around my neck and tucks her head under my chin. “I’ll never hurt you, Denny,” she assures me. “I swear.”

She takes a deep, shaky breath as she melts into my embrace. I kiss her temple and run my fingers through her hair. I feel her Santa hat under my thigh and pull it free gently, placing it back on her head. She lifts her eyes to mine and smiles sweetly. I kiss her nose and smile back at her.

“You tell Santa Claus that I love my present,” I tell her sincerely. “I’m going to keep her forever.” I brush my nose against hers. “I’ll never hurt you either, Robin,” I promise. “I love you.”

She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. “I love you, Denny,” she says happily. 

The moment is interrupted by her stomach growling loudly and we both laugh. “Sorry,” she apologizes sheepishly. “I didn’t eat before I came home. Too eager.”

“I’m not complaining,” I chuckle, kissing her forehead again. “Come on,” I suggest. “Come downstairs with me and I’ll make you dinner.”

“I’ll need your help,” she tells me, nuzzling my neck and nipping at my ear. “You gave me one of those really good orgasms that makes me unsteady on my feet.”

“I know I did,” I answer proudly, slipping off of the bed and standing up with her in my arms. She laughs gleefully, leaning up and kissing me.

“Don’t let it go to your head, mister,” she jokes, and I wink at her.

“Never,” I reassure her. “Now come on. Let’s go downstairs.”


End file.
